


Old Habits

by keelywolfe



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Dom/sub, Forced Prostitution, M/M, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:02:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25727113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: Duo left this part of his life behind years ago, but some habits are hard to break.
Relationships: Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	Old Habits

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old story and I'd honestly forgotten it existed until I got an email about it. Seemed a darn shame to let it waste away in the unknown 'net, so I'm posting it here. Mind the warnings.

* * *

In all my life, which in all honesty isn’t exactly up there with Methuselah or anything, I’ve only found one indisputable truth.

Life sucks.

Oh, sure, you might have your moments where everything is going like an episode of Sesame Street, just happy cookie breaks and counting, and then Big Bird steps off a curb in front of the 3:30 bus and splat, right back to rule number one. Life sucks.

Which would be why I am here right now wearing leather pants that are about a year too tight on me instead of at home watching the mid-morning cartoons and eating a bowl of Lucky Charms, or maybe Froot Loops. Oh, no, instead of sitting in my nice, comfy recliner that I liberated from someone’s front porch a while ago, I’m on a decrepit old subway train that is making increasingly ominous noises as it speeds up.

All because of a phone call I got at five this morning, and we all know that no phone call that come before there is light can possibly be anything good. And believe me, it wasn’t.

In fact, I take it all back. Life doesn’t just suck; it sucks hard, like a fucking Hoover.

The train creaked to a stop at the station and I was so glad that the damn thing actually did stop that I didn’t even mind the way the brakes shrieked for a good ten seconds first. If you make it out alive then it’s not polite to be too picky.

Now, if you stepped off the 8:00am transfer to the fifth quadrant, like I am, with the other hundred people who come here for business transactions you’d see why all of them risk their lives on the train every day instead of actually living here.

The first thing you notice is the smell, the stench of filth and unwashed bodies crammed together into a few square miles of living space. The water shortages now are nothing like what L-2 went through when I was a kid, but habits are hard to break and the recyclers in this part of the colony are still shitty pieces of junk, giving you bowl of gray piss-scented water that’s supposed to be safe to drink.

I walked out of the station and down the trash littered street to the Ninth and Center crosswalk, and had to make myself keep going. Just the sight of this place made me sick to my stomach. The greasy, filthy inhabitants of fifth quadrant, human flotsam that drifted in and out of existence, repulsed me. Some of them would manage to scratch out a living, if you could call it that, most of them would die in a burst of drug-induced happiness, and no one in the rest of the galaxy would give a shit either way.

A few of them glanced my way, looking at me just a second or so too long. Not surprising considering what I was wearing, but I wasn’t giving off any signals so no one came over with any offers. It was just as well, with the mood I was in I would cheerfully hand anyone who offered me a credit chip his own balls for a souvenir.

It was bad enough to know that a few years ago I would have taken it, but worse was the fact that I knew I’d nearly stayed one of them. If I’d been a little less determined to get the hell out, a little more interested in the chemical dream-life that most of my friends had been living, if one man of the cloth had been just a little less caring about a dirty faced, dirty-mouthed little boy, then this is where I’d still be.

And sometimes, I hate myself for managing to live when all the rest of them are long dead. So I guess having to see all this again is really a kind of justice. Chang would be so pleased.

A small group of dirty children were digging through a trash bin behind a greasy-looking restaurant and I had to force myself to walk past them as if they didn’t even exist, because I’d be broke in a minute if I said one word to them. If you offered a coin to one of them there would immediately be another small, grubby hand begging for a coin of its own. And another, and another until every cent you have is gone and there would still be empty, pleading hands.

Some things never change.

It only took me a few minutes to get to the intersection, a lot faster than I remember it being but then, my legs were probably shorter the last time I was here. I won’t ever be playing professional basketball but even I’ve sprouted a couple inches in the past few years. There aren’t many cars in the fifth quadrant, not ones that run anyway, so I didn’t even wait for the light to change before I crossed over and started my way down Center.

It’d been years since I’d been on this street, not since long before the war, and the day I walked away I had sworn to God and sonny Jesus that there was nothing in the known universe that could drag my ass back down here. Nothing.

So much for promises.

It wasn’t all that far down Center, and I could smell it before I saw it. I shivered slightly in recognition and it struck me as ironically amusing that even after all these years only the faintest plastic scent of imitation patchouli oil could have an effect on me. They practically hosed the place down with it, making it the only building in the fifth quadrant that didn’t smell like piss and rotting garbage.

Mona’s.

There was a small, faded sign hanging from rusted hooks on the outside, but it didn’t really matter. If you knew about Mona’s then you sure as hell didn’t need a sign to point the way. If you didn’t know then chances were you weren’t going in because you wanted to, and in that case a sign wasn’t going to do you a hell of a lot of good anyway.

I stopped at the front steps and stared mutely at the heavy wood door, watching the occasional person push through it. A regular swarm of activity was Mona’s door, and I felt repulsed by my own sour humor. Yeah, some things never change, especially down here.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ve changed all that much, either.

It occurred to me suddenly while I stood there on the shitty, crumbling pavement that passed for a sidewalk that I could just walk away. I could turn around right now without ever putting one foot on those steps, the wood long ago worn as smooth as glass by the passing of thousands of feet. I could keep that little promise to myself and just waltz on back to quadrant one where I belonged, and tell Une anything I wanted, including a suggestion on exactly how she could kiss my ass the next time she thought about asking me for such a stupid fucking favor. I could just...leave.

Another person walked inside and let the door bang shut behind him, as loud as a gunshot. I jumped and nearly staggered into an old woman scurrying past, her arms loaded with dirty grocery bags. I smiled sheepishly in reply to her glare before glancing back at the door, already feeling as tired as if I’d been awake for a fucking week.

I could walk away, but I knew I wouldn’t. If I’d wanted to hide from all the little fucked up aspects of my life then I wouldn’t have come back to L-2 in the first place.

After the whole Meriemeia incident, I spent about a year working for the Preventers. It was good, you know? Good work we were doing, good people to be with...I haven’t seen those people in so long. Une sends me updates every once in a while. Sometimes I read it, sometimes I don’t. One thing I do appreciate is she’s never asked me to come back to work. She was the only person, out of all of them, who seemed to really understand.

People seem to think that I’m just this happy, grinning, fucking moron, that I don’t feel pain like others do. Just because I don’t go around screaming about justice or blowing up colonies doesn’t mean I don’t hurt.

A whole year working for them, just starting to believe that this peace shit might actually be working and then I got to watch one of my closest friends die, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

There might not be OZ and enemy armies anymore, but there were still terrorists who still set bombs. It was my assignment, my responsibility, but fuck, I’ve never been any good with bombs, arming or disarming so I just let...I let...

I let my best friend die.

And I’d snapped, like a cheap rubber band, and I can admit it. One more person who cared about me was dead, and the blood was still drying on my hands. Again. I ran back to L-2 and I’ve been here ever since.

Quatre was the only person who actually tried to reason with me. Said it wasn’t my fault, and the psychobabble bullshit that you’re supposed to say to people who’ve had friends die. And it wasn’t my fault. I know it wasn’t. It was the bastards who set the bomb and believe you me they paid for that.

But Hilde is still dead. And it was still my mission. And I’ve been hiding on L-2 eating Lucky Charms and Froot Loops for nearly six months now, until I got a call from Une, who had never asked me to come back to work. Until now.

Another friend, neck deep in kimchee from a screwed up undercover assignment and the closest agent she had to the situation was me. Someone’s fragile life was being tossed into my butterfingers again, for better or for worse, and I took a deep breath, trying to make that, ‘Jesus, I’m going to puke’ feeling go away before I finally walked up the stairs and through the door, stepping back about four years into my fucked-up shithole of a life.

* * *

Everything was nearly exactly how I remembered it, from the tidy little bar setup in one corner to the faded cushions on the sofas that were scattered around. Even the people who were draped on those sofas looked pretty much the same, different faces maybe, but a whore is a whore, and every one of them had the same hollow cheeks and too pale skin that didn’t see the sun often enough.

A few of them glanced at me as I walked in, sizing up the potential business and those shadowed eyes with their widened pupils looked just a little too familiar to me, eyes that I had seen staring out from a mirror way too fucking often.

I looked away from those eyes, with burning hunger lingering in their depths, and studied the house instead. It was pretty quiet, about what you could expect for 8:00am, but not totally. A businessman or two who came in before they had to be at the office was the norm for this time of morning. Not as suspicious, you know. The wife might start wondering if you come home late every night but leaving early never seemed to set off the warning alarms.

"Well, well, well, look who has ventured back into our little establishment!"

I nearly jumped out of my pants at that, which would have been quite a feat considering how tight they were, but I recognized the voice an instant later. Bracing myself, I turned around to look at the one familiar face that was still here.

"Hey, Tio," I said, faking pleasure at seeing him. Tio had been running Mona’s for years, long after the grand dame herself had retired to someplace a little less fragrant than L-2. Nice enough guy, Tio, but for all his fancy clothes and the airs he tried to put on, he was just another used-up old slut like the rest of us, only now all his money came from what other people earned on their backs instead of his own.

At least that’s what I tried to tell my racing heart and suddenly my pants felt even tighter. From the soft, dark curls of his hair to his bright green eyes with only the faintest lines around them betraying his age, Tio hadn’t changed enough for my tastes. Or maybe the trouble was he was still a little too close to my tastes.

He was leaning on the same wooden cane he’d had when I’d left, an old, nicked-up piece of mahogany that had more sentimental value than actual worth. Not that he really needed it, but if you asked about it, Tio would be more than happy to demonstrate its real purpose. I shivered a little in spite of the sudden heat in the room at a memory of that cane. Yeah, Tio was a nice enough guy, and talented besides...he’d taught me a few lessons anyway.

Patting my arm lightly, he gestured for me to follow him into one of the side parlors. The second he turned around I adjusted the trouser monster that had sprouted in my pants, ignoring the snicker of the hookers behind me. Probably half of them would trade their false eyelashes and maybe a bottle of extra-slick Astroglide to be going into a private room with Tio; a shame that I’m not really in a position to appreciate it.

Ignoring the mental images that the word ‘position’ stirred up, I followed Tio into the other room. He was settling himself on one of the faded chairs and laid his cane on the cushion beside him. He waited politely until I was sitting on the sofa across from him before he spoke. "And what brings you here, sweet, business or pleasure?"

I nearly winced at that old nickname. How much else had I forgotten? Probably not enough to get me in trouble and sure as hell not as much as I remembered. I’d been remembering all morning long, since I’d heard Une say in that little apologetic voice of hers that she needed me to come here.

"Aren’t they the same thing here?" I replied, laughing easily as I tried to ignore the voice in the back of my head that pleaded with me to get on my knees, to press openmouthed kisses to the worn wood of that cane. To beg. I didn’t need any of Quatre’s little psychic powers to read Tio, to know he’d take me back if I begged him prettily enough. He was the only person I’d ever begged for, and, fuck, if Tio didn’t know it. But he’d also let me go, once, and there was no guaranteeing he’d do it again a second time.

And the way I’d been feeling lately, I was more afraid that this time I wouldn’t want to go.

Tio didn’t laugh but he smiled, a little, which was actually a grin for him. Reminded me of someone else I know, the same person whose fuck-up was forcing me to be here again. "They are the same here, sometimes, aren’t they, sweet." Not a question and I swallowed hard as Tio’s eyes traced over my body, damning the fact that I’d worn leathers that Tio would sure as hell remember and damning even more the fact that I hadn’t had a choice. It was like all the years I had been gone had suddenly melted away and I could almost feel the chafe of a collar around my neck. Almost.

Tio let me squirm for a minute and then let it go, raising his eyes back to mine as if everything was just peachy keen. The bastard. "Tell me," he asked softly, "Does it feel strange to be on the other side of the equation?"

I felt my mouth twist in a wry smile. Time to remind someone that the collar was off and had been for some time. "Whatever happened to respecting the privacy of the paying customers?" I asked lightly.

Not that I can blame him for being a little too familiar. We knew each other pretty well, or at least we had. At one time I’d been the best little slave he had. I’d been a whore too, I’ve never made any secret of that, but believe me it was better to make people pay for it than ending up giving it away free on the streets. And people will pay good money for some strange things.

And after a while, after you learn that you have a little talent for it, you can enjoy some pretty damn strange things too. Another tidbit I’d learned working here and it was a lesson I’d been trying hard to forget.

Tio raised an eyebrow and I knew what he was thinking. If all I’d wanted was a ten-credit fuck then why had I followed him here? "Ah, is that what you are tonight? Looking for anything…special?"

I sprawled back on the sofa, stretching in such a way that my shirt pulled up a little and I didn’t bother to hide my smirk as Tio’s eyes darkened. I wasn’t the only one with old memories. "Something young," I said, softly, "Something…exotic."

Yeah, Heero would be something exotic, all right. Tio would see to that.

I could see Tio was considering what I’d said and I waited, more or less patiently. Pushing would only hurt me right now and Tio knew my tastes better than I did. If Yuy was here, I’d get him. Hell, the black-market sales of the tape he’d make of us together would more than make up for losing an extra chance to have me between the sheets and, if nothing else, Tio was a businessman.

"I may have something that you would find appealing," Tio said finally, quietly, and he picked up his cane. I followed him out into the main lobby and to the back rooms, ignoring the renewed interest of the whores. They either thought I was insane or had really low stamina but it wasn’t like I was going to end up chatting with them later.

Tio unlocked one of the doors and motioned for me to go in ahead of him. I did, warily. Tio might be an old friend but that didn’t mean I trusted him more than I could throw him uphill while he was wrapped in a cement kimono.

The first thing that came into what was left of my mind as I stepped inside was beautiful.

He was nearly naked, which I’d expected, hell, I’d anticipated it, but seeing him like that was like getting a sucker punch right in the stomach. Or maybe more like the crotch because that’s where all the blood in my system suddenly decided it needed to be.

He was absolutely fucking beautiful.

Head bowed, with a surprisingly intricate gold-tinted collar buckled around his neck, he was kneeling on a threadbare rug in the center of the room. He had small gold hoops piercing both of his nipples and a chain dangled between them. A third section of the chain disappeared beneath the waistband of his very nearly transparent pants, and I’d bet good money that those little trinkets were recent acquirements. Heero didn’t seem to be the type to get drunk and end up with a pierced ear much less the Prince Albert that I suspected was beneath the tissue paper disguised as pants that he was wearing.

Heero glanced up for a moment and I caught a glimpse of his eyes rimmed heavily with black eyeliner and only the thinnest rim of blue visible around the blackness of his pupils. I wondered with thin amusement what they’d doped him with. Maybe a few ounces of Rapture, something to make a new prostitute a little more willing for the paying clients. Anyway, it was probably nothing too addictive. Hopefully.

I could taste the sweat beading on my upper lip and I licked it away before Tio could see it. No use letting the bastard know he had more of an advantage than he did, but, God, if he didn’t know me too fucking well! A glance at Tio showed me he was discreetly carrying a leash already, and with one little flick of the wrist he’d have a sweet, fiery pet on a lead, all ready for the taking. For a price.

Had I really thought I’d changed? That I’d scrubbed away the need along with the dirt when I’d finally gotten enough sense of self-preservation to get the hell out while I still could?

Heero looked at me again from beneath his lashes and his eyes didn’t even flicker with recognition. Whether that was from the drugs or from his legendary superman impersonation, I had no idea, and I didn’t really care.

We’d had something simmering between us for years, both of us juggling lust and control between us, and after the whole thing with Hilde, he’d finally just let me go. Was I disappointed? Beats the hell out of me, but I know that he couldn’t have stopped me from leaving anymore than he could have allowed himself to come with me.

He’d let me go and I’d went without a backwards glance, and now here we were again with another charade between us. At least our last little acting job wouldn’t have gotten us both killed.

But this time there was no hiding from it anymore, for either of us. In a few minutes I was going to be fucking Heero Yuy, whether we wanted to or not. Playing games with Tio was dangerous as hell, and if you wanted to live through it with all your private parts intact then you played by the rules.

Still, it’d be easier if I had a little blood left in my other head for scheming.

"Where did you pick this one up?" I asked, trying to sound careless and sounding more like a horny Mickey Mouse. So much for scheming.

Tio waved a hand negligently. "Ah, nowhere special. Fresh and barely used."

Which meant he’d picked Heero up on the black market. Lucky little soldier boy; if he’d been on the block he could have been sold anywhere in the solar system. The fact that Tio got him was damn near the closest thing to a miracle that this church boy has seen.

I made a show of studying him carefully before I made my offer, as if I wouldn’t have taken him if he were dressed in a pink tutu and ballet slippers. "Twenty credits" I said, finally.

Tio made a strangled noise behind me. "Twenty credits for a specimen such as this? Dear, I know you’re an old friend, but..."

I interrupted him before he could go through the old ‘Woe is me’ spiel. "Tio, cut the bullshit, I’m not a cherry picker. Your version of ‘fresh’ and ‘barely used’ usually means someone whose only been fucked up the ass a hundred times instead of a thousand."

"Still, twenty credits for him?" Tio protested, "Please, at least fifty!"

"Thirty."

"Forty!"

"Done."

Before he left, Tio slapped the leash into my hand hard enough for it to sting and I shivered again. Even having Heero on his knees in front of me wasn’t enough to help me forget but it sure as hell cut the trip down memory lane short.

Heero hadn’t taken his eyes off me, and I stepped forward, making a show of attaching the leash while my eyes flicked over the room, searching, searching...ah! There we are. For all the money Tio makes you’d think he’d be able to afford better than a cheap surveillance system.

Tugging lightly on the leash, I forced Heero to raise his head and look at me. Much to my annoyance nothing but pure, sweet calm greeted me. Did he always have to be so damned controlled, even now? Or was he so doped up he just didn’t care? Reaching over, I tweaked one of his nipples, giving the ring a nice tug and he shuddered, hard, all his precious control gone with a single touch.

I couldn’t help but smile, forcing myself to keep it small so he didn’t think I was too easily pleased. If Heero had been here more than an hour he’d already had a certain amount of training, which would probably make this easier. I wondered who else had touched him; just Tio himself, probably. Heero was perfectly to his tastes, and instead of pissing me off I felt even more like I was trapped in a sudden heat wave. Time to hurry this show up before I came in my pants.

I pulled on the leash again, making Heero tilt his head so I bury my face against the side of his neck. "They’re watching," I murmured into his ear, tracing the soft curve with the tip of my tongue. "If we don’t make this look good we’re both going to lose our balls and I prefer mine right where they are, thanks."

He nodded, minutely, and I felt a flash of irrational hatred for him. Sure, he’ll fuck me, for the mission, for our lives, but not just for the plain, simple, sweaty, joy of pinning me down and screwing my brains out.

Hatred sort of vanished in between me sucking on his neck and the feeling of his hands sliding up my thighs. He pushed me upright, warily like a slave should, watching for any sign that this wasn’t acceptable but at that moment I wasn’t much for being a hardnosed master. Something else in my trousers had been hard for way too long now and I needed...I needed...

I needed those careful, strangely soft hands to unfasten the fly of my pants and gently coax my erection into their waiting grasp. Not that it needed much coaxing, it fairly leapt into Heero’s face, and, you know, I take back at least half the things I’ve said about Heero not being able to take a hint and I would take back more if my brain hadn’t short-circuited at the feeling of Heero Yuy wrapping his mouth around my cock.

Hot, oh, my sweet God, his mouth was hot, and he sucked me inside that heat so damned slowly, and I knew then, dimly, that it had been Tio who’d been teaching him a few tricks. Then thought became just a bit too difficult and I found my hands suddenly, conveniently, clenched in the hair on the sides of his head.

I tightened my grip, holding him still and pushed myself hard into that dark, wonderful heat. Heero didn’t even whimper a protest, just took everything I had to offer and sucked it deep inside, his soft tongue flicking little patterns all over my cock, and Jesus, did Heero even have to be a better hooker than I had been?

Not that I was complaining, it had been so very long since I’d felt anything like this, hell, I’d never felt anything like this and I could hear myself making some pretty damn loud noises as I fucked his mouth harder, almost grimly. Trying to make him gag, trying not to let him beat me at this and with a loud wail of protest I came, spilling myself into that heat and then, finally, he choked, just a little, as he struggled to swallow it all down.

I slumped back against the door, squirming uncomfortably as I struggled to stay on my feet. Just for reference, leather clothes are not the most comfortable things to be sweating in. After a few minutes of learning how to breathe again, I managed to open my eyes and saw Heero Yuy still kneeling in front of me, serenely.

Oh, now that wouldn’t do at all. A slave should be pleased that he pleased his master, but never, and I mean never, should he try to be better than the master. Heero Yuy had a lesson to learn, and I was just the guy to teach it to him. Without a single sound to mark it, I gave in, just like that, to a the flood of Self that I’d been trying to make myself forget about for the past four years, and every second I’d spent unlearning had just been sucked into the drain of the sweetest mouth I’d ever had the chance to feel wrapped around my dick.

After I fastening my pants, I leaned over and picked up the leash again, careful not to let the tremble in my hands show as I slowly pulled it tight, forcing Heero off-balance as he was caught between staying on his knees and choking. A flash of uncertainty flickered through his eyes and I smiled at him slowly.

"Take off your pants," I ordered softly, and Heero obeyed beautifully, yes, he would obey but he wasn’t tamed and I knew it. It was a little difficult for him since I didn’t ease up on the leash but Heero is a man of many talents, some that he isn’t even aware of, I’m sure.

He was even more beautiful naked, his cock heavy and hard between his legs with the expected Prince Albert gleaming at the tip. Not as stoic as he pretended, now was he? I eased down on the leash and reached forward to unsnap it, holding it loosely in one hand as Heero looked up at me uncertainly.

"Turn around," I said, not even bothering to be sharp with him. He’d do whatever I said without protest, mores the pity. "Hands and knees."

It was an order he understood, I could see that much, but the sight of his backside was enough to make a guy like me salivate in anticipation. Not a single mark on that pale little ass, nothing but smooth, white skin, and maybe Tio hadn’t lied to me as much as I thought. Heero couldn’t have been here that long if he hadn’t already gotten the lesson I was about to teach him.

He was expecting me to fuck him, wanted me to do it. I could see that in the slight arch of his hips, the tiny wiggle of his backside as he waited, but he was going to have to learn that a slave didn’t always get what they wanted.

There was a good reason all the leashes at Mona’s were made out of leather, and folding mine in half left me with a good, long, doubled strip to work with. I pulled a pair of gloves out of my back pocket, an afterthought that I barely allowed myself to consider, the same way I hadn’t thought about it when I’d tucked them into my pocket to begin with. Tugging them on and the years were gone, and I was someone I hadn’t been, hadn’t wanted to be, in a long time.

I ran a single, gloved finger down the curve of Heero’s ass, watched him squirm a little and I smirked, hefting the familiar light weight of the leash in my hand for just a moment longer before I began.

Heero lurched forward on the first blow, going to his elbows, and I stopped immediately, stepping forward and jerking him up by his hair.

"Don’t do that again," I hissed in his ear, a thrill going through me at his slight trembling. Was he actually afraid, I wondered, sliding my other hand down his face as I said gently, "I promise I’ll hurt you very badly if you do. Do you understand me?"

He nodded jerkily and I let go of his hair. Heero collapsed back to his hands and knees but not without bracing himself, I saw with approval, and I began again.

Careful, measure strikes across Heero’s backside, aimed to hurt not to mark permanently and it seemed there were a few more lessons I’d neglected to forget about all those years ago. The proper angle of the wrist, the exact amount of force in each blow, the neat precision required so that every inch of skin glowed brilliantly red, everything was as clear to me as it ever was. And Heero never made a single fucking sound.

I hit him harder, hating him more with every stroke, hating him for being so fucking perfect, for knowing that if it had been his mission Hilde wouldn’t be dead, I hated him, God, I hated him! For being who and what he was, for everything I had ever been forced to do for him...for...for...

For letting me go.

I stopped suddenly, feeling my arm ache way more than it should for a simple discipline beating and through the strange haze that seemed to be choking me I saw Heero’s shoulders were shaking rhythmically. The leash fell from my nerveless fingers as I moved forward to kneel next to him, tilting his chin up with one hand.

Tears were streaming down his reddened face, slipping down to drip off his chin, and I suddenly realized why his collar had looked so intricate to me. There was a voice inhibiter hidden within the base of it; Heero couldn’t have screamed if I’d been killing him. Worse, so much worse, was the fact that I couldn’t even regret what I had done, not with beautiful sight of gem-bright tears sliding down those pretty red cheeks. Not with the prettier red cheeks of his backside burning against my other hand as I touched him without even realizing when I’d started.

I wiped at the tears with my thumb, and when that didn’t help I leaned forward to lick them away, tasting his eyeliner. "Beautiful," I murmured, nearly choking on the words but obedience like this deserved a reward. "You’re very beautiful," I said again, softly. Heero raised his damp-lashed eyes to mine and I could have cried myself at the soft hope shining there. And the need, the heat, oh, God, the fucking need.

"All right," I said, hearing my voice shake and not really caring. "All right," I repeated, senselessly, shifting to kneel behind him. Heero lurched back against me as if he could push right through the leather of my pants and have my cock inside him just that second. I let him though, ground myself against him, rubbed my erection in the cleft of his ass and moaned at the heat I could feel even through my pants.

Fumbling with the zipper, I jerked my pants down barely past my hips, my fingers sliding down his backside to test his opening and I wasn’t surprised that he was already loosened and slick to my touch. Tio was never a man to leave much to chance.

With hardly a pause to position myself, I pushed inside, hard, and Heero threw his head back in a silent scream, shoving his hips backwards and I slapped his flank, forcing him to stop.

Hot, so hot, hotter even than his sweet little mouth, hot and tight and fuck, I wasn’t going to last long but that was all right because he wasn’t going to last long and all I could do was hammer into that tightness, groping awkwardly around Heero’s hip to find the hard heat of his own cock, felt the sudden squeeze of muscles around me as Heero came from that single touch and then I was coming, helplessly, screaming, pouring into the tight clench of Heero’s body and tasting blood as bit my lip, hating him for doing this to me again. Hating him for making me want this so Goddamned much, hating myself for wanting this…hating myself for loving every second.

* * *

It seemed a little surreal to see Heero curled up on the crumpled sheets of my bed only a few hours later. I sat in a ragged chair in the corner, watching him sleep and wondering what the hell I was going to do now.

Buying him hadn’t been easy and that hadn’t been much of a shocker. Tio wasn’t a guy who liked to give up a promising slave; I knew that much from experience. But the proper amount of money followed by a very proper blowjob will coax even the most adamant guy into selling. After all, every man has a price, and Heero’s had been steep but still doable.

I ran my tongue over my teeth lightly, repulsed and horny at the same time. I’d brushed my teeth probably ten times since we’d gotten back here and I swore I could still taste it. That was one little detail I was going to leave out of my report to Une, anyway. Bet that would look good in it: Agent offers money in exchange for item. Money is refused until Agent throws in a good cocksucking with the deal. I’m sure Une would love that.

Heero shifted a little, sighing, and I wondered irritably how much longer he was going to snooze away. I’d given him another dose of Rapture myself before we’d left Mona’s, enough to keep him subdued for a little while. I hadn’t been in much of a mood to go over the mission data right then and no one on L-2 would even look twice at someone with a slave collar on anyway.

He stirred again, blinking, and I watched him silently as he turned over and took in his surroundings. I doubted he remembered much of the train ride here, but with Heero Yuy, who knows? Finally, he saw me and stopped, and we just stared at each other for a long minute, me not wanting to speak and him not able.

What to do, what to do, isn’t that the question of the day? My life had taken a serious detour since I got Une’s phone call, one that I hadn’t even dreamed about for a long time. Because I might be able to go back in time and be someone I’d been before, but I can’t pretend that I don’t know something when I do. Heero can’t hide from me anymore.

Rapture is an interesting little drug, you know. Makes it easier for a new prostitute, yeah, takes the edge off of your inhibitions but it doesn’t make you give head like an Olympic medallist and it doesn’t make you wriggle your ass in the air like a two-bit fucktoy. It doesn’t make you need.

Heero doesn’t know need. But I know someone who can teach him.

He gestured at the collar, impatience shining in those eyes that were usually so dead of emotion, and that’s one thing that Rapture can do, strip away all the little concrete barriers that you’ve walled up around yourself. No, he can’t hide from me, yet.

"And what if I don’t take it off?" I asked, very softly, speaking for the first time since I’d gotten back here. "What if I just leave it there? You know, this is legal on L-2." I had to laugh at the shock in his eyes. Guess the superman doesn’t know everything, after all.

"Why do you think no one offered to help us during our water crisis?" I added helpfully. "Maybe they were hoping we’d all die. But you’ll notice they don’t try to stop this either. They’ll condemn prostitution to our faces and then slide in the backdoor to taste the forbidden fruit themselves."

He was just staring at me, and maybe it was just the aftereffects of the Rapture, but it didn’t take a genius to see that Heero Yuy was sporting a nice piece of wood all of a sudden.

"I could just phone Une up right now and tell her I never found you," I said softly, taunting him. "Maybe she’d send someone looking for you, but, you know, maybe she wouldn’t."

I stood up, walking around the bed behind him to whisper softly in his ear, hardly more than a breath. "What if I liked seeing you on your knees?" He swallowed hard, and I traced his spine with one finger, felt him shiver beneath my touch.

And then I released the lock on his collar. Heero didn’t move for what was probably the longest minute of my life and then he was on his feet in an instant, stumbling just a little and that had to be the Rapture. Heero just wasn’t a stumble sort of guy.

He didn’t even look at me, instead going over to my closet to find himself some real clothes, and wasn’t he lucky that we were pretty close to the same size.

"I have to report in to headquarters," he said finally, his voice a little hoarse from not speaking for God knew how long and he still wouldn’t look at me, pulling a shirt over his head.

"Sure," I said easily. "The phone is in the living room."

He started to walk out, and maybe he really thought it would be that simple, but it was still his fault that I had a few of my own memories dredged up for me, and I wasn’t about to let him off that easy.

"And I think you liked being there," I said, loudly, flopping back on the bed. He stopped at the door, one of his hands tightening into a white-knuckled fist and then he walked through without even a thank you. Typical.

I grinned, stretching and groaning loudly as my joints popped noisily. It was a good thing I never accumulated much junk because L-2 wasn’t going to be a good place for me to stay for a while, not with Tio knowing I was here. Maybe it was time for me to wander back to the Preventers, get back into the swing of things. You can’t mourn forever, you know, and it looked like I might just have a new game to play with an old friend.

Whether he wanted to or not.

-finis-


End file.
